


Dean's Slice of Heaven

by this_is_madness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5733862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_madness/pseuds/this_is_madness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Opening quote was taken from a conversation between Ash and Dean in 5.16, "Dark Side of the Moon"</p></blockquote>





	Dean's Slice of Heaven

_“So everybody gets a little slice of paradise.”_  
_“Pretty much. A few people share—special cases and what not.”_  
_“What do you mean ‘special’?”_  
_“Aw, you know. Like, soul mates.”_

 

When Dean opens his eyes, he knows exactly where he is: lying atop his bed in his room in the Bunker. But it is not the Bunker as he left it, but rather the Bunker from many, many years ago. It is the Bunker as it had been, _before._ This enlightens him to his true location, which both thrills and chills him. He sits up slowly, looking down at his body which is now young once more, the body of the thirty-something man he had been happiest as. He is relieved to be young again. He studies his hands, smooth with youth and unscarred, which seems unnatural to him. He rakes one of his new hands through his short hair with a sigh, and then drops it to his shoulder, the one marred with a hand print. A flash of panic stabs through him as he thinks, momentarily, that his most beloved scar is, too, healed, but his heart calms the moment he yanks up his t-shirt sleeve to reveal the last mark of the man who yanked him from perdition. A sort of weariness settles in his heart momentarily. A soft clearing of a throat behind him, however, is a welcome distraction.

He whips around and freezes, met with icy blue eyes that he had only seen in his dreams for years now. Too long.

“Dean.” His voice is just as Dean remembers, gruff and full…and oddly sad. Dean can’t speak, throat clogged momentarily with shock and emotion. However, he doesn’t have to immediately as his angel continues. “Dean…you’re here. You’re here. What did you do, Dean? I have no sense of how long it’s been, no sense of years. Tell me…How are you here?”

“Lucky you,” Dean grinds out, voice breaking. “Lucky that you have no fucking sense of years, of time passed.”

“Dean…” Now it is Cas, with the knowing eyes that bore into Dean’s, who is at a loss for words. “How long…?”

“How long what, Castiel?” Dean doesn’t know where the anger comes from, why suddenly there are tears streaming down his cheeks. The emotions swirling in his head are too much, too many. Too soon. “How long have I been alone? Without you? Without Sam? Alone in a world that I couldn’t make myself care about without your presence? Is that what you’re asking me, Cas?”

“Yes.” Dean almost feels like laughing at Cas’s response, so straightforward, so _Cas_ , if the pain coloring his ocean eyes didn’t break Dean’s damn heart.

“Years, Cas.” Dean’s sigh is heavy with the weight of his own pain. “Years. Forty long, hard, inescapably agonizing years. After you and Sam…well, after the last time, when there was no bringing either of you back…I didn’t join you because I knew that if I did, I would appear here, and on the off chance that you’d be here, the look—like how you look right fucking now—would kill me more than anything. So I kept going. For forty goddamn years. And you know what? It doesn’t get any easier. Time doesn’t heal all wounds. That’s bullshit. I felt shitty every fucking day of those years alone. I felt like ending it every fucking second, but I didn’t because, God help me, I care about you two assholes more than anything else in this goddamn fucking place. And so, on one hunt when I got hurt and had to go to the doctor and I was diagnosed with goddamn cancer, of all the fucking things to kill a hunter, I was glad. I was so fucking relieved that I didn’t have to stay on that fucking planet without the two goddamn people that I gave any sort of fuck about gone, leaving me alone. I was glad that I finally had a reasonable escape route, a way out. A way here, without any strings attached. A way back to—“

Dean catches his breath, stops himself before he starts hyperventilating. His gaze had wondered down to his hands and so when he glances back up to see Cas directly in front of him, just inches separating them, he almost jumps.

“Back to me.” Cas’s voice is assured, no wavering. There is no hesitation when Cas places a hand on Dean’s cheek, his eyes staring into Dean’s with a resolute promise. “You came back to me.”

Dean leans into Cas’s palm. “So this is heaven. My final heaven. I thought I’d be alone…again.”

“Some people share. Special cases,” Cas reminds Dean, echoing the words of a friend long lost up here.

“What do you mean ‘special’?” Dean repeats back to his angel.

“You know. Soul mates,” Cas replies, leaning in to rest his forehead against Dean’s.

“You don’t have a soul,” Dean points out.

“Apparently, you have soul enough for both of us.” Cas chuckles breathily, leaning in every so slightly to whisper against Dean’s lips, “Exceptions are always made for the Winchesters.”

With that, he plants a wet, warm, meaningful kiss against Dean’s lips, which Dean immediately returns in gusto. Forty years he had only dreamed of ever seeing Cas again. However, a crash from somewhere in the Bunker makes Dean pull away.

“What was that?” Dean’s immediately tense, ready to fight.

“Like I said, exceptions are always made for the Winchesters,” Cas smiles hugely at him as suddenly, the door to Dean’s bedroom bursts open and Sam stands at the threshold, eyes huge to match his grin.

“Dean,” he breathes, bounding to his older brother, who envelops him in a bone crushing hug.

“Sammy,” Dean breathes right back. They hug for a few long moments before Dean pulls back, holding Sam at arm’s length.

“You look good, Sam,” Dean smiles at him.

“You look older,” Sam replies with a tilt of his head. “It’s something about your eyes.”

Dean rolls his eyes before turning to look at the two men who suddenly filled the hole that had been ripped through his heart, infinitely raw, for the past forty years. He felt happier than he had in his entire life. “So this is my heaven,” he sighed contentedly.

“No,” Sam shook his head, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder with a lighthearted grin that Dean hadn’t seen fully formed on Sam since he was a kid.

Cas weaves his fingers with Dean’s, and finishes, “This is _our_ heaven.”

**Author's Note:**

> Opening quote was taken from a conversation between Ash and Dean in 5.16, "Dark Side of the Moon"


End file.
